Page 135 of Duchess Material

“So, did you hire a planner for this wedding or was it just you, Luce?” George asked.

“Winston planned it. Well, with Nat’s help. He planned most of it. He insisted he didn’t want me stressing over it. It was so sweet.”

Lucy looked at Winston like he was the only person on Earth. It made his heart melt. She was gushing. Lucy wasn’t just putting on a show, either. She was ecstatic. Her happiness was effusive. He smiled at Lucy, unable to hold back, either.

“I just wanted it to be a good experience. It wasn’t a big to-do. If it had been, we would have invited you all. No disruptive dads. No nonsense. She was beautiful as ever. It was perfect.”

“Stop. Stop,” Paul chuckled. “I’m gonna lose it. You’re sickeningly sweet. I am the fifth wheel. You depress the single bloke at the table.”

Lucy blushed. “Sorry, we can tone it down.”

The wine arrived. Patrick said, “You shouldn’t temper yourself on our accounts.”

“I’m joking. You know I’m happy for you both. It’s exciting. I am happy for all of you. Maybe there is hope?”

“Paul, you’re young. There is plenty of time,” Winston assured.

“So, what’s next?” George asked.

Lucy sipped wine. “Um, well, we’re going to Vegas. Unfortunately. Combined bachelor-bachelorette party for my sister and her fiancé. Bless Tony for being a trooper. I don’t know why he agreed to this.”

“One, I didn’t want to offend the pettiest of your siblings. Two, because you’re my wife. I’m not about to leave you alone in Vegas during that nonsense.”

“Or do you not trust her?” George joked.

Winston answered, “Nah. I trust her. She’s so sweet. We trust each other. She travels all the time. It’s mostly that she was loathing the idea.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “You always ask people that. George, you do realise it’s rude, right?”

“He doesn’t have to worry about what is rude. Or, rather, he didn’t have to. Past tense,” Lucy said, pushing olive oil around on her plate.

“Fuck, you’re cross with me,” George snickered. “I know that look.”

“Thankfully, I cannot let you have it.”

“Oh…kay,” Paul said. “I think the goal is to leave the bride out of it, right? She gets a pass. Speaking of which, at a gay wedding, who takes the piss out of who?”

Paul was unusually skilled in his diplomacy on this evening. Winston was surprised. He usually floundered a bit.

“We’re not Scandinavian, so it doesn’t matter.”

That made everyone but Patrick laugh. “What does that mean?”

“The Scandinavians roast grooms in the most ridiculous ways,” Paul explained. “It’s fucking brilliant. There is a Toastmaster. You can even hire one. It’s next level.”

Lucy giggled. “See, you got off easy, Winston!”

“No big reception planned? Your mother is letting you get away with that?” George asked.

“I think she knows I’m old enough to make a decision about that. And Lucy was explicit that she had no desire to plan such a thing.”

“It’s enough to coordinate everything for your wedding, George. Oh, the irony. Natalie needs to be all over the place. Everything needs clearance. I have to be on calls with The White House. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“And with Gerry’s nuptials, I think I’m happy to be done with it,” Winston said.

“Nothing wrong with a big wedding, George. I am sure yours will be lovely, but it was freeing to not give a fuck, really. Of course, my family handled it about as well as you’d imagine.”

Winston looked at her compassionately.

---